


That's Gonna Leave a Mark

by mcschnuggles



Series: A New Mask [3]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, CGRE - Caregiver/Age Regressor, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Regressing!Akira
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-18 05:01:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28986789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcschnuggles/pseuds/mcschnuggles
Summary: Akira gets injured during a Mementos mission.
Relationships: Kurusu Akira & Everyone
Series: A New Mask [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2040298
Comments: 47
Kudos: 82





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> okokok i know i SAID i wasn't writing anything new until Regressuary BUT...
> 
> I don't really have an excuse, I just had an idea for an injury fic i really wanted to write ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

“ _Phantom Brats!_ ”

Akira ducks, barely evading the fire attack aimed straight for his face.

“Nice try, lady, but we ain’t gonna let you go around hittin’ kids anymore!” Ryuji cries. He feints left, skirting around her next attack, and manages to land a hit right into her face. She stumbles backward, giving Akira time to get back to his feet.

Mishima had dropped this request on Akira earlier that morning, and with little going on this week, he and the team decided to get on with it as soon as possible.

But facing the malevolent Shadow down now, in a fight that’s been going on for at least ten minutes, Akira is wondering if they should’ve taken some time to prep first.

“I’ve got buffs coming in!” Futaba shouts. “Joker, watch your Persona!”

Akira glances up, realizing that he hadn’t switched out Personas right as a blast of fire knocks the world out from under him.

Next thing he knows, he’s being picked up by the scruff of his neck.

“Just a bunch of brats who can’t mind their own business!” Shadow Harukawa screams. “Don’t come any closer, or your leader is dead!”

The Phantom Thieves hang back, their faces twisted in panic. Akira fights back the urge to reach for them, because that’s a baby thing to do. Does it count as breaking their Most Important Rule if he hadn’t been feeling little until the giant scary monster grabbed him by his neck?

“It’s alright.” Makoto says, her voice even. “What do you want in return for him? Money? Items?” She doesn’t make an offer first, meaning she’s been listening to Akira’s advice on negotiation.

Shadow Harukawa scoffs. “I’m not stupid—I know what you Phantom Brats do!” The fingers around his neck tighten, and Akira struggles to take a breath. Without meaning to, he kicks his feet, trying to find some purchase to relieve the strain on his throat. “Well, I’m not letting that happen. So you’re gonna go back the way you came from and _maybe_ I’ll let him go.”

“Sure.” Makoto says. She takes careful, controlled steps backwards, and beckons for the others to follow suit. “We won’t come back. Just let him go.”

Akira’s eyes cut to them, regressed panic building in his throat. They’re not just going to leave him here with the mean babysitter, are they? He thought he wasn’t going to be left behind again.

Ryuji pauses mid-step. He must be able to tell, either from Akira’s body language or from the look on his face, that something is off.

“Skull.” Makoto grabs his arm, pulling him back in line with the rest of them, and reluctant as he looks, he still follows.

They really are going to leave him, then. Akira isn’t sure how to feel. Angry? He could never be angry at his friends. Resigned? He’d always had a fear in the back of his mind that something like this would happen. But to see it acted out in front of him…

A gunshot rings out from behind them. Shadow Harukawa screams as the shot hits her between her shoulder blades. Her grip on Akira’s neck loosens, but before he can break free, she hurls him at the wall.

Akira’s face takes the brunt of the impact, spreading a sharp crack of pain throughout his head, only accentuated when his body hits the floor with a painful thump a moment later.

Over his head, the Phantom Thieves fall into a frenzy of fighting, but Akira can barely keep his head up. He tastes blood. Is that normal?

“Joker? Can you hear me?” There’s a hand on his back, and it takes Akira a second to recognize the person touching him as Ann.

“ _Owww_ ,” Akira chokes out, his voice coming out higher than he meant it to. There’s no hiding he’s regressed now, no hiding that he broke their rule. Tears build in his eyes as the pain settles in, heavy on his shoulders.

The hand moves to his face, and the pressure is enough to make him _wail_ and flinch away. A deep, pulsing ache spreads across the left side of his face. He cowers behind his hands, trying to protect his face from being touched again.

“This can’t be good.” Ann mutters to herself. “Honey, I’m gonna try a healing spell. Can you try lifting your head for me?”

He can do that. Or at least he thinks he can. His arms are weak and shaky, barely supporting his weight as he pushes himself up from the ground.

He looks to Ann, hoping for some sort of reassurance, but her expression drops from sympathy to horror the second she’s able to get a look at his face.

“Oh my God!” Ann says, with such urgency that the dam breaks and Akira succumbs to his tears.

The fighting from behind them stops, or at least Akira is crying hard enough to not hear it as much. He’s in pain, and if Sissy reacted that badly, it has to look bad, right? What if he has to go to the hospital? What if Sojiro isn’t allowed to keep him anymore because of it? He doesn’t want to go somewhere new again!

“It’s okay, shh,” Ann says, but the franticness in her voice only serves to get him _more_ worked up.

He cowers behind his hands, not wanting to be touched. Maybe if he hides, the problem will go away. It hurts when Sissy touches him anyway. It would be better if he just stayed hidden.

“I know, I know.” It’s clear Ann wants to at least grab his shoulder, but she holds back and heals from a distance.

Akira takes a shuddery breath, trying to calm himself. It’s hard when his pulse is thudding behind his eyes, when all he can focus on is the constant pain, but he knows he needs to calm down. He’s still the leader of the Phantom Thieves after all, so he should be able to keep it together for one little injury.

“Poor baby,” Ann murmurs from beside him. “Just keep breathing, okay? You’re doing great.”

Akira nods, his hands still clasped over his face. For whatever reason, his mouth isn’t closing right, and he can feel spit leaking onto his hands. But he can’t think about that. He just tries to focus on his breathing.

This time, the fighting has definitely stopped, and Harukawa seems to be coming to her senses.

“Oh, God, what have I done?” she asks the Phantom Thieves. “How could I—”

“Oh, just go back to the real world already!” Futaba snaps. Akira can hear her pounding footsteps crystal clear. “Is he okay?”

“I don’t know,” Ann answers. “He’s in a lot of pain. There’s something wrong with his jaw, I think. I tried every healing spell I had and none of them seemed to do anything.”

Futaba crouches by his side. “Can I see?”

Akira shakes his head. The others are slowly joining in, forming a circle around him. He doesn’t lift his head, but he can see Ann extending her arms, trying to keep everyone a good distance away.

“Is it bad?” Makoto asks. And Ann must nod, because she takes a sharp breath in through her teeth. “We need to get him out of here. Can he walk?”

“He could barely sit up,” Ann responds.

“Lemme try.” Ryuji crouches in front of him, a respectful space between them. He lifts his mask up so Akira can see his face better. “Hey, lil guy. You got pretty roughed up, didn’t you?”

Akira nods. He holds his hands a little closer to his face, his fingers accidentally brushing against his tender jaw. Tears spring in his eyes, but he doesn’t cry out.

“I’m sorry, buddy. Would you let us take a look? That way we can help.”

Akira shakes his head. He doesn’t want the rest of his teammates to freak out like Ann did; he doesn’t want to worry them. Even though he’s little—especially when he’s not supposed to be—he still has some responsibility to take care of his team.

Ryuji’s face falls, and Akira feels instantly guilty. He doesn’t normally act like this—he’s not _supposed_ to act like this—but he can’t help it. “Buddy, please?”

Akira hesitates. He trusts Ryu, and he definitely doesn’t like seeing Ryu so sad. It’s not like he wants to be difficult, either. Carefully, ignoring the pain and the saliva rolling down his chin, he removes his hands from his face.

Ryuji winces, but he doesn’t freak out like Ann does. “Okay, that looks bad. We’re gonna get you to the doctor, okay? Can I help you stand?”

Akira nods. He offers his hand for Ryuji to take, but he retracts it almost immediately, remembering all the dirt and drool that’s on his gloves.

“It’s alright, little one,” Yusuke says. He and Ryuji take Akira by the shoulders and gently lift him to his feet. “Are you alright to walk?”

Akira takes a tentative step. His legs tremble in protest, the feeling in them near nonexistent, but Akira is determined to keep going. Ryuji and Yusuke stick by his side, guiding him each step of the way.

He moves incredibly slowly, so by the time they’ve made it back into the main area of Mementos, Morgana is already idling and Makoto is waiting for them by the driver’s side door.

“Joker, I’m sorry you got hurt,” Makoto says. “I can’t help but feel like it was my fault you got hurt.”

Akira’s eyes go wide. It wasn’t Mako’s fault! She was just trying to save him. He tries to open his mouth to say something, but the spark of pain he feels makes it impossible to speak.

“You don’t need to say anything. I’ll make it up to you,” Makoto promises. She reaches out to him, presumably for his face, but pulls back and fusses with the lapels of his jacket until they’re even. “And that starts with getting you to the doctor as soon as possible. Can you get in the car okay?”

“I’ve got him!” Haru volunteers.

Haru takes his hands, guiding him into the middle seat. Ryuji climbs in on Akira’s other side and Yusuke, pouting, gets into the row behind them with Futaba.

“I’m so sorry the mean lady hurt you,” Haru croons. From the way she hesitates and Makoto’s actions just a moment before, it’s clear no one knows how to approach comforting touch with him yet. She settles for resting a hand on his knee. “I should’ve aimed for her head.”

“Has anyone told you today you’re horrifyin’?” Ryuji asks.

Morgana revs his engine, and Makoto floors it. For a second, Akira is worried about her reckless driving, but he’s almost instantly flanked from all sides by mom arms. Even if they crash, he’s pretty sure he’ll be safe.

She weaves around Shadows with ease, barely slowing down once.

Akira braces himself, trying to keep his body from being jostled around too much, as the guilt starts to settle in.

They probably could’ve had more time to explore, maybe even taken down a few more targets, if he hadn’t been so thoughtless in battle. That, and if he hadn’t broken their Most Important Rule by immediately regressing afterward.

He peeks up from between his fingers, wondering if Makoto is mad at him. “’m sorry.” He forces the words out despite how his jaw protests, bringing a fresh wave of pain over one side of his face.

Ann turns around in her seat. From the way she puts a hand on Makoto’s shoulder, they must be thinking the same thing. The two of them are most concerned about the Rule. “No, no, shh. It’s okay, sweetie. You weren’t feeling little until you got hurt, were you?”

Akira shakes his head, but the sudden movement only exacerbates the pain in his face.

Ann makes a soft noise of sympathy. “It’s okay. We’re gonna get this fixed up, alright?” She pauses for a second. “What do you think we should have to celebrate once you’re better? Ice cream?”

Akira perks up a little at that. He’s not sure how the cold will feel against his injuries, but the idea of something sweet is enough to make him forget about that.

Ann smiles. “Does ice cream sound good? Maybe we could get milkshakes! Bet I can guess what your favorite flavor is!”

“Hey, if it’s a bet, you gotta up the ante!” Futaba pipes up from the back seat. She leans over the seat, her hand light on Akira’s shoulder. “What are _you_ gonna give my boy if you’re wrong?”

“Hmm…” Ann thinks on it for a second. “What about… I give you a chapter a day for an entire week?”

Now _that’s_ a bet. Akira loves when Sissy reads to him, especially because she has books he’s never heard of from all the countries she’s visited. She sends him recordings to fall asleep to, in case he wants just a little bit of tiny time right before bed, but usually she only has time to do one or two chapters a week.

Yusuke grins, leaning over the seat from Akira’s other side. “I believe if our little one had the ability, he’d say, ‘you’re on.’”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know we're in the middle of Regressuary but I love working on this story ;-;

Takemi doesn’t ask questions, especially not for the leader of the Phantom Thieves.

She just takes one look at Akira, teary-eyed and hiding his face behind his hands, and ushers him into her office. It would probably be easier to address if he hadn’t brought all of his friends and his cat with him, all of whom look terrified out of their minds, but you work with what you get.

One of his friends, a blonde boy, goes to follow, the others trailing behind him, but Takemi stops him with a hand to his chest. “I get your concern, but you’re severely overestimating how big my office is. He’ll be fine.”

The way doubt passes over each kid’s face, she gets the sneaking suspicion that that’s not the case. Takemi has had plenty of teenagers walk in, and she knows that look can only spell trouble. The thing is, what is it that they’re not telling her?

“I’m next of kin!” the little redheaded girl blurts out. “Can I go in with him?”

“You’re the little sister, right?” Takemi asks. She has vague memories of making a house call a little while back, but she’d never connected the dots that these two were related. She turns to Akira. He won’t take his hands away from his mouth, so she can’t help but think he might be a little hard to communicate with alone. “Is it okay if she joins us?”

Akira nods the affirmative. He doesn’t lift his head, nor does he speak, so his little sister takes him by the arm and gently guides him into Takemi’s office.

He takes his spot on the examination table without a word, with his sister sidling up close beside him. His hands don’t move away from his face, almost as if he’s trying to hide.

Takemi frowns. She’s used to him being quiet and out of the way, but to this degree it’s… unsettling.

“Alright, let’s get a look at this injury.” She pulls her seat up so the two of them are face-to-face. “Lower your hands, please.”

The tension in his shoulders ramps up, and he splays his fingers, allowing her a small peek. His behavior is odd, almost childlike. Just how badly is he hurt?

“Come on, Kira,” his sister says quietly. She rubs a hand up and down his arm. “It’s okay.”

Akira lifts his head, putting his vulnerability on full display. He looks to his sister for reassurance, and when she nods her head, he relents and lowers his hands.

His jaw is jutted out and slightly to the right, a clear sign of a dislocated jaw. That explains why he hasn’t been talking. Takemi is no dentist, but this isn’t the first time she’s had to fix something like this. “Have you been able to close your back teeth at all? Can you show me?”

Akira glances at his sister again, and this time she takes his hand in hers, which apparently is the encouragement he needs. His face twists in pain as he does so, the act of moving his jaw enough to reignite the pain. Just as she thought, his teeth aren’t lining up at all.

“Looks like you got a dislocated jaw.”

“Is that bad?” his sister asks.

“Not as bad as it could be, considering his extracurriculars,” Takemi answers. She dares a glance at Akira’s sister, wondering if she’s a Phantom Thief too, but her face is unreadable. “I can fix this manually, but it’s not going to be pleasant.”

Akira winces at that.

“Don’t worry too much. We’re gonna get you drugged up first.” She wheels over to her counter and grabs her clipboard. It wouldn’t hurt to double check his health anyway. “Now, take off your jacket and step on the scale, please.”

Akira does as he’s told, this time without his sister’s encouragement. His hands have found their way back to his face, but she supposes it’s progress and checks his measurements as quickly as she can.

“You’ve lost weight since the last time you visited,” she notes. “Have you been eating alright?”

Akira shrugs, meaning that he probably hasn’t.

Takemi makes a note to pester him about that later, when he’s not in a considerable amount of pain and cowering behind his kid sister. “I’m gonna take down your dosage of morphine a little considering you’ve lost weight, but you should be out of it for a bit. Ever get your wisdom teeth removed?”

Akira shakes his head.

“Well, consider this good practice.” She guides him back to the examination table and fills up a syringe. “You might want to hold your sister’s hand again.”

* * *

The waiting room is quiet, tense.

Makoto glances around the room, taking stock off her friends’ expressions. They’re all sporting the same look of quiet anxiety, ranging from Ryuji’s restlessness to Haru’s look of dissociation.

Morgana prowls around the door, trying to overhear even snippets of the conversation, but whatever he hears is too quiet to make out or not worth passing on to the rest of them. Makoto would like to ask, but she doesn’t dare for fear of talking over something important.

Akira’s jaw looked awful, dislocated and swollen. Thankfully, there wasn’t much blood, but that was the only consolation she could find. Poor Akira looked like he was in so much pain, and then he felt compelled to apologize by the end of it. They might need to have a talk with him later, to make some sort of amendment to the Rule so this doesn’t happen again.

A shriek tears through the empty silence, and Makoto can’t stop herself from jumping to her feet. Ryuji’s right there beside her, and it looks like the only thing stopping Haru and Yusuke from doing the same is how tense they look. Akira’s pointed it out before when trying to teach her how to read their body language, that Haru especially is more inclined to freeze up when faced with stressful situations.

There’s a pause, another moment of tense silence, that is quickly filled by the sound of sobbing.

Haru drops her head, looking half-ready to break down in tears too, and Ann doesn’t seem far behind her. And if she’s being honest, Makoto might be ready to cry herself, but she needs to keep herself together. As the strategist of the Phantom Thieves, she likes to think of herself as an unofficial second-in-command, and if she can’t keep them together, who can?

“What if I just knock?” Ryuji asks.

“ _Ryuji_.” It comes out more as a plea than a command, because her heart is _breaking_ hearing Akira cry like that but she still has to be strong for the rest of them.

Thankfully, Ryuji stops short. He must see it in her eyes, how close she is to cracking. “You’re right,” he says. “Gotta let the doc do her thing.”

It’s a painful five minutes of sobbing before the cries die down. Makoto isn’t sure what’s worse—the only sound in the room being that of Akira’s cries, or the dead silence that follows afterward.

“Did he… do you think he’s alright?” Yusuke asks.

“I don’t know,” Makoto answers. “Mona, what are you hearing?”

But before he can answer, the door clicks, and Morgana dives back into Akira’s abandoned school bag.

“Easy now.” The voice comes loud and clear from the other side of the door.

Akira stumbles out, supported by Takemi on one side and by Futaba on the other. The dried tear tracks are clear on his face, even as he keeps his head ducked down. His jaw looks like it’s back in place, though, even if the bandage around his head makes it look worse than it really is.

Akira glances up. The first person he sees is Ann, and his face breaks into a lopsided grin. “Ah!” He makes grabby hands for her, which puts him off-balance enough to go tilting forward.

Luckily, with a burst of speed and strength Makoto didn’t know she had, Ann is able to catch him before he can fall.

“I had to give him anesthetic for the pain and muscle relaxants to help move the jaw back in place,” Takemi explains. “He shouldn’t be feeling a thing, but he will be pretty out of it for a while.”

Ann blinks, trying to shake off her surprise as Akira snuggles against her shoulder. He’s babbling up a storm, but everything he’s saying is too quiet and too mumbled to really make out. “I can tell.”

Takemi snorts. Her eyes fall on Makoto, and after deciding she’s the most competent of the bunch, hands her a bottle of pills. “Make sure he takes one of these every four hours. They should help with the pain and the swelling. If you notice any bleeding or if his jaw starts to look misaligned again, bring him back here as soon as you can.”

Makoto nods. “Yes, ma’am.”

“And try to minimize his chewing as much as possible. We don’t want him putting any more strain on it than necessary for a few weeks at least. And it should go without saying that he should be getting as much rest as possible.” Takemi sighs, lightly tapping her prescription pad against Akira’s forehead.

It’s enough to get his attention, and he blinks hazily up at her.

Despite herself, Takemi offers him a slight smile. “Get well soon, alright? I need to perform another examination soon.”

Akira nods, but Makoto doubts he understands what’s being said. He’s just as quiet as usual, but the usual active listening, the attentive way he follows the conversation, is replaced by a passive half-comprehension.

“Um, guys?” Ann pipes up. Akira is still hanging off of her, but it’s only a matter of time before they both go toppling over. His shoes are already slipping, trying to find traction against the linoleum floor, and Ann is trying her hardest to keep him upright. “A little help?”

“I’ve got him.” Ryuji hooks Akira’s free arm around his neck, taking some of the weight off Ann. She still supports him from one side, but Akira’s attention—and the majority of his weight—is on the shiny new person beside him.

“ _Ryuuuuu,_ ” Akira coos. It’s his first coherent word, but only by comparison.

“Hey, buddy,” Ryuji says. Makoto glances over at Takemi, to see if she notices anything’s amiss, but she’s already back at her reception desk, uncaring of the scene before her. “You ready for bed?”

Akira nods, but again, Makoto gets the sense that he knows he’s being asked a question he should nod along to more than he agrees with what’s being suggested.

“Poor thing looks exhausted,” Haru agrees.

“We just need to get him past Boss first,” Makoto says.

Easier said than done.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahh this chapter feels so much longer than it actually is. I think I've rewritten this twice. At first it was supposed to be just Haru and Yusuke, but then I realized I'd written way too much Makoto angst to just ignore her.

“Why is it that every time I see you all together, you’re dragging this guy in half-conscious?”

Leblanc is thankfully empty—Makoto doubts Akira wants anyone to see him this way. Even Boss might be too much. But it’s not like they can take him somewhere else. He needs to be safe at home, with his stuffies and toys, so he can recover better.

Sojiro hooks a finger under Akira’s chin, tilting his head back to get a better look at his injury. Akira’s eyes are hazy, not really focusing on anything, and they dilate under the light. His cheek is an angry red, swollen and probably set to bruise. “What happened?”

“He tripped,” Ryuji explains, but upon realizing that had been their excuse last time, he falters, making it sound even less believable.

“He tripped?” Sojiro shoots a look at Ryuji, suspicion sparking in his eyes. “What, onto an oncoming car?”

“Uhh…” Ryuji’s never been good at coming up with excuses on the fly.

Makoto needs to think quick. She glances around her friends, trying to think of some excuse, but before she can even concoct a half-baked excuse, their time runs out.

Sojiro turns on Futaba. “Futaba,” he says, his voice a low warning. “What happened?”

Futaba shrinks back. Strong-willed as she may be, even she can’t produce a decent comeback when her dad is using his serious voice.

For a split second, she makes eye contact with Makoto, but they both know Makoto can’t do anything to help. This had to be why Boss singled her out—for the truth. It makes Makoto wonder if he even believed the lie from last time about Akira hurting his leg.

“We were kinda… playing around with fireworks?” Futaba says. She looks guilty enough that even Makoto almost believes it herself. “It’s not Akira’s fault! He only said yes because I begged him to!”

Sojiro sighs. “Futaba, you _know_ how dangerous that is. And Akira got hurt because of it.”

“I know.” She lowers her head, looking thoroughly chastised, and Sojiro backs off.

“ _C’n go’a be’?_ ” Akira asks. Even though the morphine has set in, he’s still trying to avoid moving his jaw too much—meaning that it’s even harder than usual to understand him. Ryuji, Ann, and Haru are versed enough in baby talk to get the gist, but Makoto and the others are mostly clueless.

“Are you tired, honey?” Ann croons, realizing a second too late that they have to at least pretend like he’s big. Her head jerks in Sojiro’s direction, but he doesn’t even give Akira’s odd speech patterns a passing glance.

“What did the doctor say?” Sojiro asks, looking like he’s aged ten years in the last five minutes. “You took him to the doctor, right?”

Makoto nods the affirmative. He’s asking Futaba, but she thinks it’s safe to lend Futaba a hand. “Yes, sir. His jaw was dislocated, but she managed to put it back into place without surgery. She said lots of bedrest, soft foods, and these painkillers every four hours.”

Sojiro sighs. “I’ll call him in sick for the next few days. Get him upstairs.”

Ann nudges Akira, stirring him from his bleary in-between state. He blinks heavily at her, his eyes just barely focusing on her. “Bed,” she says simply, and thankfully Akira seems to get her meaning.

Akira makes it a single step before his legs give out from under him, but thankfully Ann, Yusuke, and Ryuji are quick enough to keep him from tumbling to the floor.

“Is he okay?” Sojiro asks. Just for a second, his mask of indifference slips, revealing the concerned parent underneath.

“Takemi had to put him on anesthetic and muscle relaxers to get his jaw back in place,” Makoto explains. “He’s been like this since we left.”

“Frankly, I think it’s a miracle we got this far,” Haru says. She hovers off to the side beside Makoto, and while it’s clear she doesn’t like doing nothing, she doesn’t want to crowd Akira.

“Here.” Ryuji ducks under Akira’s arm, allowing Akira to go limp over his shoulders. “Put him on my back. I’ll carry him up.”

“Can you handle that?” Makoto asks.

Ann and Yusuke hoist Akira up by his thighs, giving Makoto her answer. Ryuji lurches forward, his knees threatening to buckle. Makoto fights back an “I told you so,” knowing that it’s the last thing Ryuji wants to hear under a whole person’s worth of dead weight.

“ _Pi’y ba’ riiii_ ,” Akira murmurs into Ryuji’s shoulder, seemingly untroubled.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright?” Yusuke asks. He and Ann look ready to catch them both, should Ryuji collapse under the weight.

“Yeah.” Ryuji forces a smile. “I got ’im.”

Sojiro rolls his eyes. “I’m gonna go get him an ice pack. I’ll be back in a few minutes to lock up.”

Futaba watches him go, waiting until he disappears from sight to voice her threat. “Ryuji, if you drop that baby, I’ll never forgive you!”

To his credit, Ryuji looks offended that she’d even suggest he’d drop Akira. “Hey, I’m tryin’ my best here! He’s heavy!”

By some miracle, he’s able to make it up the stairs without an incident, though it takes a few extra hands to get Akira safely in bed.

Akira lies flat on his back, and the overhead light only serves to emphasize the lack of focus in his eyes.

“Wah’ cuh’l free-un,” Akira says. Despite everyone’s attempts to keep him lying down, he props himself up on shaky elbows and moves so his head is resting in Ryuji’s lap.

“Everyone?” Ann parrots back. Makoto thinks it’s just for the others’ sake, so they can understand him better, but Akira himself seems to be having trouble processing language, including his own. It must help him feel understood.

Akira nods seriously. “F’ever.”

“Forever?” Ryuji asks. “But we have to go to school, buddy!”

“Nuh muh,” Akira says, which Makoto has to guess translates to “no more” from the way Ryuji and Ann both have to stifle giggles.

“If that’s what our leader wants.” Ann climbs onto bed beside him and sits half-propped up against Ryuji. Her fingers comb through his hair as everyone else shuffles in around him, eager to give him attention.

Morgana stakes his claim on Akira’s shoulder, half-resting on Haru’s knee as she scoots in beside Ryuji. Makoto hangs back. The bed isn’t big enough for all of them, after all, and since it was her fault he got hurt, it makes sense that he might not want to see her.

“Good, you got him to bed.” Sojiro brushes past Makoto, ice pack in hand. “This should help with the swelling.” He hands it over to Haru, who gently places it against his cheek.

Akira flinches away from the icepack, whining to show his discontent.

“Here.” Sojiro wraps the icepack in a washcloth, shielding him from the immediate sting of the cold. “How’s that?”

Akira hums. “T’ay you, Papa.”

The air goes stark silent, all the Phantom Thieves sharing horrified glances. They watch Sojiro, waiting for him to realize what’s going on with Akira.

But Sojiro only chuckles. “They really gave you the good shit, huh?” He tousles Akira’s hair, thumbing the bangs away from his forehead. “Get some rest.” And with that, he leaves, giving the group a singular warning of, “Don’t eat all my food.”

“That was a close call,” Ann says once the telltale creak of the stairs stops. “I thought for sure Boss was going to suspect something.”

“Is Akira alright?” Yusuke asks. “I’ve never seen his speech so regressed before.”

“Well, speaking in medical terms…” Futaba pauses to adjust her glasses. “He’s baby.”

“Extremely baby,” Yusuke confirms. He retrieves Akira’s teddies from their hiding spaces under his bed, smiling at how Akira lights up and makes grabby hands for them.

“Someone should stay with him. Just to make sure he takes his medicine on time.” Makoto hears the sharp intake of breath, so she adds before everyone else can simultaneously volunteer, “Like _two_ people at most, guys. We wouldn’t want to overextend our welcome.”

“Sojiro won’t care!” Futaba says. “Akira’s injured! Plus, you saw him go full Dad Mode!”

Makoto fights to keep her composure. It’s not like she wants to leave him either. But Akira is sensitive to his surroundings and is probably even more so now that he’s on so many painkillers. They have to be considerate of his wants too.

“I understand that, but we need to think about how Akira feels. I doubt he wants all of us crammed into this attic with him.”

“I think ‘wanna cuddle everyone forever’ may speak for itself, don’t you think?” Haru asks.

“Didn’t he also say something about wanting to go ice skating? He’s been saying a lot of stuff he doesn’t mean.”

Haru quirks her lips, and Makoto realizes what she’s doing a second too late. Haru, the absolute traitor, leans over Akira and taps his nose to get his attention, all the while making the saddest face she can manage. “I’m sorry, honey, but I think we all have to go.”

Akira’s eyes go wide. “Go?” Tears threaten the corner of his eyes.

She nods sadly. “Mako-chan says you need space. But that’s better than a big slumber party, don’t you think?”

“Ma-cha fee’ ’lo,” Akira says.

Haru hums, as if considering his words. “That’s what I think too. Why don’t she and I switch places, huh? That way you can give her a big hug so she feels accepted. Then we can all have a big sleepover!”

Next thing Makoto knows, she’s facing direct exposure to the puppy-eyes and grabby hands combo. It’s not like she can just say no to that, so she takes Haru’s place by Akira’s side.

“Ma-cha,” he repeats, which she guesses is his way of saying of “Mako-chan.” He clumsily gropes for her hand, which she gives him easily enough. It really is hard for her to worry when he smiles up at her like that.

“Are you sure about this, Haru? You’re giving up some prime real estate here.” Makoto’s smile deepens as Akira offers her one of his teddies.

“I have to get an overnight bag anyway,” Haru says. “Plus, I have a couple presents I’ve been meaning to give to him that he might appreciate. I can also pick up a couple overnight kits for anyone that might want one.”

“I’ll go with you,” Ann volunteers. “I’ve got a couple things to pick up myself. Futaba, tag me out.”

With little fuss, Futaba and Ann are able to switch places. Akira’s eyes have gone hazy again, meaning that he’s either lost the conversation thread or he’s falling asleep.

Makoto combs her fingers through his hair, and his eyes slip shut however briefly. “You might wanna leave while he’s not paying attention,” she says. The last thing they want is for the tears to make a comeback.

Ann nods. “And we’ll ask Boss about staying on our way out.”

It’s her form of a compromise, Makoto supposes. A way to confirm that it’s okay for them all to be here, to know that they aren’t accidentally going too far in some way.

“Thank you,” Makoto says finally.

Ann smiles softly. “Sure thing.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I needed some slight Haru and Yusuke bonding, okay?

Akira doesn’t fall asleep.

Instead, he finds the phone still in his pocket and starts texting. Makoto just thinks he’s playing a game at first, until she gets the text notification.

_I lovd all ofnyou v r u mcuc thwnk yki for begin my frirnds_ , the text reads.

Ann’s response is almost immediate. She and Haru must be on their way back. She sends back a flurry of heart emojis. _How are you feeling, hon?_

_Teetj_ , comes the response.

_Hey, maybe you should get Akira’s phone away from him?_ Haru suggests.

Makoto’s response pops up a moment later. _Done and done._

Akira whines as she takes the phone out of his hands, but his motor skills are too far gone for him to put up much of a fight.

Makoto coos in sympathy. “I know, honey, but your friends know you love them.”

“Buh Papa…” He sounds dangerously close to tears, so Makoto has to think fast to avoid disaster.

“You can tell Papa how much you love him in the morning,” Makoto says calmly, combing a hand through his hair.

Akira pouts, and while that’s obviously not the answer he wants to hear, he accepts it.

His phone pings, the confused responses pouring in. It looks like he got through the majority of his most recent contacts, including Mishima, Ms. Kawakami, and the arms dealer he works with.

Out of respect for his privacy, Makoto tries not to look at the message previews, but the response “ _Are you on drugs?_ ” stands out to her as particularly funny.

Akira tilts his head back, giving Ryuji the puppy dog eyes. “Ryu fo’?” he asks.

Ryuji grins. Akira has made himself very comfortable on Ryuji’s lap and, at this point, is very unwilling to move, so Ryuji is his go-to for trying to get his way. “Sorry, buddy, you’re not getting your hands on my phone.”

Yusuke puts a finger to his chin. “So ‘fo’ refers to ‘phone,’ then.”

Makoto shakes her head fondly. Yusuke and Futaba are utterly fascinated with the baby, and since Ryuji is the only one here that can translate baby talk, they look to him with reverence.

“Well, yeah, you just gotta work from context clues.” Ryuji pokes Akira’s forehead, snapping the baby out of his half-daze, to provide a demonstration. “How you feelin’, bud?”

“Flowy.” Akira raises his hands, vaguely reaching in Ryuji’s direction.

Ryuji threads their fingers together, trying to minimize the chances of Akira accidentally smacking his face. “You feel floaty?”

“Yeh.”

Yusuke furrows his brow, adopting the same look he has when he’s scrutinizing an art piece. “Fascinating,” he murmurs.

The ding of the door cuts off any further conversation. “We’re back!” Ann calls. She comes up the stairs already dressed in a hoodie and shorts, so she must have changed at home.

“What took you guys so long?” Ryuji asks. Akira amuses himself by swinging their hands back and forth.

“Haru was helping me pick out books!” Ann replies. She lays everyone’s bags out on Akira’s work bench, then retrieves a stack of three books from her own bag. “I thought we could try something different tonight.”

“Sto’y?” Akira asks.

“You want a story before bed?” Ryuji asks. At Akira’s nod, he slips his hands underneath Akira’s shoulders and helps him sit up. “Let’s get you changed into comfy clothes first, ’kay?”

The girls politely avert their eyes, leaving Yusuke and Ryuji to help Akira out of his school uniform and into his pajamas. Futaba and Ann are going through the books Ann brought, while Haru is fiddling with a soft pink hoodie half-hanging out of her bad. Strange, though, because it looks far too big for her.

“Okay, we’re good,” Ryuji announces. By the time Makoto turns around, Akira’s already lying down again, this time on Yusuke’s lap instead of Ryuji’s.

Haru treads over first, the hoodie clutched tight in her hands. “Perhaps it’s not the best time, but I bought you something.”

Akira perks up—well, as much as he can when he’s teetering on the edge of complete unconsciousness—at the mention of a present. His eyes go right to the hoodie she’s holding, and thankfully he’s still there enough to connect the dots. “My?”

She nods. “All yours! Would you like to try it on?”

Akira attempts to sit up, but it must be too hard for him. He reaches his hands out to Haru instead, utilizing the ever-effective grabby hands. “Ru hel’?”

“Of course I’ll help!” Tugging him upright is easy, getting him in the hoodie even more so. It is just a touch too big for him, the sleeves hanging a little bit past his hands. “How is it?”

“Bih’n soff,” Akira hums happily. He slumps back, curling up against Yusuke’s shoulder.

“It is, isn’t it? I’m glad I got it a size too big, then!” Haru glows at the praise, but she doesn’t pull him in for a cuddle like she normally would. Then again, that might just be because Ryuji refuses to move from Akira’s side.

“Hey, Ryuji’s being a Kira hog again!” Futaba cries, confirming that it was noticeable enough for more than just Makoto to pick up on. “I demand a shuffle.”

Makoto knows the beginning of a bickering session when she hears it. “Who’s waking him up for medication then? The times are 2 a.m. and 6 a.m., so whoever wants to volunteer gets to cuddle the baby.”

Haru’s hand immediately goes into the air. “I can take the first time! I’m a light sleeper anyway.”

“And I’ll take the second,” Yusuke adds. Makoto isn’t sure if it’s because he thinks he can or if he just doesn’t want to get up when Akira’s snuggled against his chest.

Ann picked out a series about kids that time travel using a tree house. Since she’s the designated reader, she gets to curl up on the opposite end of the bed with Morgana in her lap.

Akira seems to have his own way of getting cozy, so the others let him arrange them as necessary. He wants Yusuke as a pillow and Haru cuddled in close on his other side, that way he can hold her hand easily, and he has to have one teddy on either side.

As it turns out, Ann’s great at reading stories. It makes Makoto wonder just what experience she’s had with kids, if she’s good at reading to them and can understand baby talk so well.

But as she finishes up a chapter, she looks to Akira to find he’s as awake as ever, if not more so. He watches Ann with bright eyes, like she hangs the stars and wrote the stories herself.

Ann tilts her head, sympathy and frustration mingling in her features. “Did that not help?”

“Well, it helped someone.” Makoto nods over to the couch, where Futaba and Ryuji have fallen asleep against each other.

Haru lifts her head, brushing her hand through his hair. It’s no secret she was dozing off as well. “Are you not tired, baby?”

Akira shrugs.

“Here, let me try something,” Makoto says. She double checks her phone battery, relieved to see it’s over seventy percent, and pulls up a two-hour loop of music box lullabies. It’s set at a low volume, just enough to blend into the background. “Why don’t we try another chapter?”

“You won’t say no to that, will you, little one?” Yusuke asks. Makoto’s noticed he’s started speaking for Akira a little more. Which is fair, considering how little Akira talks, but she wonders when he picked that particular habit up.

Ann begins to read again, and Akira is out within a few minutes, confirming Makoto’s suspicions. The pain must be making it hard for him to get comfortable.

He just needed a little extra help, is all.

* * *

Haru’s alarm goes off at 2 a.m. on the dot.

It chimes quietly, and while Haru had been fast asleep a few moments ago, she only lets it make a few seconds of noise before she turns it off.

Akira is fast asleep, the less achy half of his face resting against Yusuke’s chest. He has one arm curled around his teddy, and one hand in Haru’s.

Haru carefully detangles their fingers, trying her best not to wake him up. Luckily, he’s out cold, but the same can’t be said for Yusuke.

All it takes is a little movement and he stirs, but instead of shifting and going back to sleep, he lifts his head to look right at Haru.

“Oh, Yusuke. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up,” she whispers. She hadn’t thought she was being too loud, so is something bothering him?

“You’re getting up?” he asks. Akira’s pain medicine sits on the windowsill behind them, so it’s not like anyone has to get up.

“Well, Mako-chan mentioned that it’ll be best to get him extra calories for a while, so I thought I might make my special honey cinnamon milk.”

Saying it out loud, it’s a little embarrassing, because what if he doesn’t like it? And she knows it’s a little over the top, but she wants to make up for the fact that she can’t keep an eye on him in class like Ann and Mishima can, or spend time with him at lunch like Makoto and Ryuji can. She just wants to be able to do something for him.

Yusuke’s eyes widen. “That sounds heavenly. May I join you?”

“Aren’t you a little… preoccupied?” she asks. Not only is Akira curled up against his chest, but Ann passed out on the end of the bed, meaning that she’s using Yusuke’s leg as a pillow. She has an arm looped around Morgana, holding him against her chest, and his contented purrs are ongoing.

“Oh.” Yusuke looks around, as if remembering how many people he has resting on him. “Give me a moment and I’ll be down.”

Haru nods along and leaves, almost sure that he won’t be able to make good on that promise, but once she has the lights on and the right ingredients set out, Yusuke pads down the stairs with surprising stealth.

“That was quick,” Haru notes.

“I was able to substitute his stuffed bears,” Yusuke explains. “I don’t think I’ll be missed for some time.”

“Very stealthy.” Haru adds a dollop of honey to the mug she picked out, very aware of the way Yusuke is watching her. She dares a glance up. “Would you like some as well?”

“No, thank you. Though I am curious as to what inspired this.”

Haru grins. “I make it for myself when I’m having trouble getting to sleep, so I’m hoping he’ll like it too… And that Boss won’t mind me using a cup or two of milk.”

“He was having trouble getting to sleep earlier,” Yusuke agrees.

“And I’m sure that once the morphine wears off, he’ll only be in more pain,” Haru adds. “I’m just hoping to make this night as easy on him as possible.”

Yusuke nods along. “He has been through a lot recently. And he’s so _young_. How do you understand what he’s saying?”

Haru blinks in surprise. Was that what this was about? Did Yusuke feel jealous that he couldn’t grasp baby talk yet? “Oh, well I’ve always loved working with children, and it’s just something you pick up over time. Sometimes my father would have me head tours of our facilities for young children. And I know that it was for his benefit and not mine, but it was something I really enjoyed.”

Haru stirs up the mixture—honey, vanilla extract, a cup of milk, and a bit of cinnamon—as best as she can with a fork before popping it into the microwave. It’ll need to heat up before she can add the rest of the milk.

She can feel Yusuke’s eyes on her, practically asking her to say more. Maybe it’s the fact that she’s tired. Or that she’s with her friends and her guard down. But something compels her to speak.

“My father wasn’t a good man, but I still miss him,” Haru admits, leaning against the counter. Her voice catches, giving away just how hard it is for her to say that out loud. “He used to make this for me when I was younger too.”

But much to her surprise, Yusuke nods. “I understand completely. Madarame wasn’t a good man either, but he did care. It’s… difficult at times. To balance my perceptions of him. To wonder if I want to forgive him because he was my sensei or if because he genuinely had the capability to be good. And vice versa, if I don’t, is it because of my own anger at the way he treated me or because his actions are truly beyond redemption?”

She places her hand over his in what she hopes is a comforting gesture. She knows she can be a little forward at times, a little too overbearing, but she just wants to make sure people know they’re heard. “I think your anger is valid, Yusuke.”

Yusuke grins. “And I yours.”

The microwave beeps, effectively ending the moment. Haru removes the mug, adding the rest of the milk and giving it a brief stirring before putting it back in. It’s a smaller portion than she usually makes, but it has to fit in a sippy cup, and she doubts Akira will drink it all anyway.

“I apologize for bringing this up so late,” Yusuke begins. “But you seem to have it figured out better than me. Sometimes I worry if I can be a decent caregiver because of my own upbringing.”

Haru giggles. “I think you’re asking the wrong person, if you’re looking for someone who has it all figured out, but I feel the same way sometimes.” It’s weird, getting the chance to talk about her father like this. Most people treat it like a taboo subject. “I find what works best for me is concentrating on the good memories I have and trying to replicate them. For me, it’s when I’d skin my knees and my father would carry me home on his shoulders. Or when I was scared or sick and he’d lie in bed with me until I fell asleep.”

“The latter seems to work well.”

“Huh?” Haru blinks, realizing a second too late she’d described exactly what they were doing with Akira, and her face goes red. “I guess it does!”

“And if it’s any consolation, I think you’re doing an excellent job. I would never have dreamed of something so thoughtful.”

Haru wants to refute him. After all, is it really that thoughtful? Makoto was the one who mentioned he’d need calories and fluids and she was merely extrapolating on that. But still, she gets the feeling that she and Yusuke could debate themselves in circles over who’s more valid if needed. “Would you like to try some for yourself?”

She pours half the contents into Akira’s sippy cup and then nudges the mug in Yusuke’s direction.

For a second, Haru worries if she’s lost her touch, but all worries go flying out the window when Yusuke immediately drains the mug.

“If he manages to keep awake after this, it’s a true testament of his willpower.”

Akira must’ve noticed they were gone even in his sleep, because he immediately blinks awake. His hair is sticking up adorably on one side, which only accentuates his pout. Haru has to stifle a giggle.

She and Yusuke switch positions to avoid rousing Ann or Morgana. Haru’s legs are much shorter than Yusuke’s, after all, and while Yusuke doesn’t give any indication, Haru suspects he might’ve just wanted to give her a chance to cuddle with Akira.

“Take this, okay?” Haru presses the pill into one palm and the sippy cup into the other.

“Me’cine,” Akira murmurs. He downs the pill in one gulp and chases it with milk, but he only manages a couple mouthfuls before his eyes start to droop.

Haru gently takes back the cup, and Akira curls up against her shoulder, almost instantly falling back asleep.

“That certainly did the trick,” Yusuke murmurs. “Very impressive.”

Haru grins. It’s hard not to feel at least a little proud of herself right now. “Wake me up when your alarm goes off and I can teach you, okay?”

“Sounds wonderful.” Yusuke takes Akira’s free hand and almost instantly drifts off, with Haru not too far behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *whispers* I have no idea where to go from here :,)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big fluff chapter. I was kind of struggling on this one so big shoutout to Crafty-Scrafty for leaving so many lovely comments and resurrecting my dead tired soul ;-; 
> 
> I realized I don't give Makoto as much love as I probably should so here's her chance in the spotlight lol

Akira wakes up that Sunday morning, slightly more in control of himself and very, very embarrassed.

He said _so many stupid things_. He called Sojiro _Papa_. And all those _texts_. At this point, he can basically kiss his dependable persona goodbye.

He has to get his phone. He has to send apologies right now. He can’t undo what he’s done, but at the very least, he can attempt some damage control.

The sun is just rising, casting dim lights in through his window. His phone lies on the sill, just within reach. He detangles his hand from Yusuke’s, causing Yusuke to grumble and roll over, but not wake up.

Haru is on his other side, holding him in a loose embrace. It’s just a matter of reaching over her, but even that small movement is enough to rouse her.

“No, baby,” Haru mumbles, clearly still asleep. Even so, she takes the phone from his hand and puts it back on the windowsill with practiced ease.

The implications send a fresh wave of guilt crashing down on him. How many times had he tried that throughout the night? Everything after the bedtime story is just a hazy blur—and everything before that isn’t much better.

He was little last night. Way too little. Way too much work. Part of him wants to start in on the apologies the second everyone wakes up, but he knows he’ll only be met with reassurances that it wasn’t any trouble at all. That they _like_ caring for him when he’s like that. As if that’s supposed to make him feel any less guilty.

His jaw still hurts, but not as badly as it had yesterday. It’s more of a quiet dull ache than a constant throbbing pain. It’s manageable, at least. Not enough to keep him awake if he wanted to go back to sleep.

He can already feel himself heading in that direction, so he does a quick check on everyone before he can’t keep his eyes open anymore. Ryuji and Futaba are curled up on the couch still. Ann and Morgana are still at the foot of his bed. He frowns when he sees Makoto on the floor. It’s not fair that there wasn’t room for her. He’d have to buy an air mattress or at least a sleeping bag for next time.

But he shouldn’t have to worry about that now. Not when it’s still so early. Besides, there’s no rule that says he has to be big right away. If he wants to be tiny for a bit while he drifts back off, that’s okay.

He cuddles into Haru’s warmth, humming contentedly when she hugs him close, and lets sleep pull him back under.

* * *

Akira wakes up to the soft cadences of voices.

They’re quiet, but still audible enough to pull him out of sleep. He’s already considering pulling the covers over his head and nodding off again, especially considering how cozy he feels.

He’s a little too warm, but that’s probably just because he’s spent the night wedged between three people and a cat.

“Sorry to wake you, Kira,” Futaba says. A hand touches his arm, gentle to the point of being almost apologetic. “Can you take your medicine for me?”

He blinks awake just as a bottle of water is pressed into one hand and a pill is pressed into the other. He can feel everyone’s eyes on him, trying to suss out if he’s still regressed.

Maybe they’re right to worry. Akira almost spills water down the front of his shirt when he takes his first drink, not realizing how unpleasant the cold would feel against his teeth. Still, he manages to down the pill without incident, and he’s not in as much pain as he was yesterday.

He could be big if he wanted to be. If his teammates needed him to be. But as he looks around, he sees evidence of a lazy Sunday in the making.

Futaba’s collection of movies by the TV, extra snacks laid out on his workbench. It wouldn’t be bad to have another small day, would it? His friends are worried about him. He might as well let them fuss if they want to.

Yusuke combs his fingers through Akira’s hair. From the look of his own hair, he’s only been awake for as long as Akira has. “How are you feeling, little one?”

“Ow,” Akira answers. Would it be so bad if he let himself slip, even if he woke up big? He was hurt, after all. He could make an exception for himself today, right?

Haru frowns. “Well, that’s no good. You’re not bleeding or anything, are you?” Her fingers probe the left side of his face, gently touching against the sore spots. “Does it hurt when I do this?”

She presses just a little harder, and Akira flinches back. “Hey, not too hard.” He can hear the tiniest slur of his words, but at least everyone can understand him now.

Haru hums in sympathy. “I’m sorry. But hey, you’re already sounding so much better!” She cups his cheek as gently as she can. “How old are you this morning?”

Akira shrugs. Little enough to need people around and big enough to feel guilty about it, that’s for sure. “You guys can leave if you need to.”

“Sorry, we’re under strict orders from our leader,” Yusuke says, a teasing edge in his voice. “We were told he wanted to ‘cuddle everyone forever,’ and we can’t disobey a direct order like that.” He gives Akira’s hand a reassuring squeeze, but that doesn’t stop Akira from turning a bright red.

“Yusuke!” Haru chides, but she’s grinning too, the traitor. “Don’t tease him! He’s baby!”

“Yeah, I’m revoking your Kira privileges! You had him to yourself all night!” Futaba announces, wedging herself between Akira and Yusuke with impressive agility. She sticks her tongue out at him. “Sharing is caring!”

“We were planning a lazy Sunday if you wanted,” Ann says. “It’s okay if you wanna rest by yourself, but if you’re still little and want some company, that’s what we’re here for, okay?”

That sounds good. Perfect even. Honestly, he couldn’t ask for a better way to spend his Sunday, especially since he’ll be spending most of tomorrow alone while his friends are at school.

“Yeah. Could I…?” Akira trails off, gesturing vaguely at his mouth. He remembers wanting his pacifier a lot last night, but even drugged out of his mind, he hadn’t had the courage to ask.

Thankfully Makoto seems to get his meaning. “I think it should be fine,” she says slowly. “Just tell us if you’re in any pain, okay?”

Akira nods. He grabs Miya, the teddy bear with the hearts on her paws. She has a special hiding place on her back that he made himself. A Velcro strip runs down the length of her back, containing a small mesh bag he hides his paci in.

He’d had to remove some of her stuffing to make this hiding place, so he just hoped his friend wasn’t mad at him for cutting her open.

The paci is nothing special, just the cheapest adult pacifier he could find with discreet shipping, but getting it here was a long time coming.

Akira refused to order one for himself, until Haru, who he was quickly learning was a force to be reckoned with, threatened to buy him some in multiple styles and colors and basically forced his hand. He couldn’t let the others spend that much money on him, especially when he had the means to provide for himself right there.

“Let’s do the setup we tried last time!” Ann suggests. “That way we don’t have to jostle Kira around too much.”

Akira climbs out of bed, waiting until everyone’s distracted to put his paci in. It feels like a transgression. After that first time, after Yui’s Palace, he quickly lost his nerve. The only person who had really seen him use it so far has been Morgana, and like with the sippy cup, Akira had to beg him not to tell anyone.

The pacifier is a comforting weight on his tongue, one that helps him feel a little smaller. And no one really bats an eye, except Futaba, who has to pinch his good cheek and tell him how cute he looks.

“What should we watch?” Ann asks once everyone’s settled. She and Futaba are on either side of him, Ryuji’s holding him upright, and the others are gathered in hand-holding range if needed.

Akira gives a little shrug, sinking back against Ryuji’s chest. He takes out his pacifier just to say “you pick” and immediately puts it back in.

“We’ve lost him,” Futaba announces.

“He talked a lot more than I thought he would,” Ryuji says.

“I don’t think he’ll be awake for much longer anyway,” Makoto says. She’s the closest to the DVD player, so it’s her job to pick out the movie. “Futaba, what do you recommend?”

She’s right. Akira doesn’t really watch the movies so much as he sleeps through them. He’s already dozing as the others talk out their movie choices, but when the movie starts and everyone settles down, he can’t even pretend to keep his eyes open. If there’s a joke or an exciting moment, something that gets the others riled up, it’s enough to have him at the very least blink awake, but for the most part, he’s down for the count.

That is, until Sojiro comes upstairs with soup and someone has to yank the paci right out of his mouth to make sure Sojiro doesn’t see. That alone is enough to bump him from middling to teeny, and he tears up before he can stop himself.

Thankfully, Sojiro just assumes he’s still in pain, and even better, Akira’s able to feed himself without spilling.

The day wanes on, Akira sleeping through most of it. He’s never this tired after a Metaverse run, but he’s also not recovering from a dislocated jaw, so he decides to give himself a little leverage.

It’s well into the afternoon when he finally feels up to staying awake for longer than a few minutes at a time. Yusuke looks a little disappointed, though Akira doesn’t understand why until Yusuke shows him the sketch of Ann, Akira, and Futaba he made. It’s only half-done, lacking in finer details, but it still brings a delighted flush to Akira’s cheeks. He always likes it when Yu draws him; it makes him feel special.

They watch another movie, this time with Akira awake enough to pay attention, but as the afternoon bleeds into the evening, everyone starts saying their goodbyes.

Haru had to leave the earliest, followed a little while later by Ann and Yusuke. Futaba was all but ready to spend the night, but Sojiro wouldn’t let her. Akira can’t blame him. Cuddle puddles are nice, but he doesn’t think anyone slept as well as they should have last night.

And while Ryuji was all geared up to stay the night again, just in case Akira needed something, a concerned call from his mom gave him no choice but to go home as well.

That just left Makoto.

“You don’t have to stick around,” Akira tells her as he puts his mattress back in its rightful place. He takes the paci out of his mouth and places it on a folded-up tissue at his windowsill. He can already tell he’ll want it sometime in the night, but not now. Saying goodbye to his caregivers always makes him age up, whether he wants to or not. “I’ll be fine.”

“No, it’s not that.” Makoto shifts awkwardly, looking surprisingly out of her element. Sensing this conversation might be private, Morgana quietly lets himself out. Once he’s gone, she crouches by Akira’s bedside, never one to hang over him. “There hasn’t really been a time to bring it up, considering all that’s happened, but I did want to apologize again for what happened in the Metaverse. Not only did you get hurt, but it feels like there was some miscommunication with the Most Important Rule.”

“Sorry.” Nauseating shame flashes through him thinking of that fight. There were so many things he’d done wrong. If he’d just fought a little smarter, or if he’d been a little more careful, maybe Makoto wouldn’t be so hard on herself right now.

“No, really, there’s no need to apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong. I think the Rule needs an amendment anyway. It was unreasonable to ask that you never be little in the Metaverse.”

Was it? It’s for his own safety, after all, and what kind of leader would he be if he might regress during any infiltration mission? He’d done a bad thing—he’d broken their Rule. Didn’t that deserve some sort of punishment?

“I’m going to talk to the others about this, but I think it should be less ‘no being little in the Metaverse’ and more ‘let us know right away if you’re feeling little in the Metaverse.’ That way we can help. Does that sound fair to you?”

Akira nods. Even if he doesn’t quite agree with the Rule changing in the first place, he gets the distinct feeling that this is more for Makoto’s sake than his.

“Good.” She stands, dropping a kiss on his forehead. “Get some rest, alright? And don’t forget your medicine.”

She’s looking for a way out, but Akira can tell there’s something still on her mind. Really, she’s not nearly as subtle as she thinks she is.

He clears his throat, fighting his hardest to sound big. “Makoto.”

She stops in her tracks, trying hard to look casual. “Something wrong?”

“It’s not your fault either. You handled the situation perfect.” And he meant it. Having Haru wait in the wings was a smart idea, and if she hadn’t made that call earlier in the fight, then Akira is sure he’d have much more than a dislocated jaw to deal with.

The words of praise only make Makoto look guiltier. “And yet you still got hurt.”

“I don’t think anyone could’ve predicted that she’d throw me.”

“A better strategist might have.”

There’s something off about her voice, a hint of strain that Akira can barely pick up on. She feels guilty, obviously, but there’s something else. “It’s not just about this, is it?”

From the way that Makoto goes pale, he knows he’s right on the money. So instead of trying to cover for herself, Makoto just waves him off. “It’s silly. And I really should be going—”

“ _Makoto_.”

She glances up at him, her eyes going wide. Maybe she didn’t expect this conversation to happen, that whatever’s bothering her only matters when Akira’s in headspace. As if Akira would ever let one of his teammates take the burden of whatever’s bothering them alone.

“Okay, fine,” Makoto relents. The paleness leaves her face, to be replaced with a red flush. “I may be… jealous.”

“Of who?” Akira wracks his brain, trying to remember if he’s been favoring anyone lately. Sure, he has his favorites for any situation, but he tries to make sure no one person feels left out.

“Of everyone? Ann and Ryuji know you so well already. You always seem to be having fun with them when you’re regressed. And Yusuke and Haru are naturals with you. You always look so content cuddled up with one of them. And Futaba always has new things to show you. I can’t help but feeling a little boring in comparison. I mean, what do I do, other than tell you to drink water and nag you about going to bed on time?”

“But it’s nice being fussed over like that.” Not to mention that he’s fundamentally a boring kid. None of his regression activities are fun by any means, and usually it’s the others trying to bring him out of his shell. He likes spending a couple hours on Makoto’s lap, watching her do homework. The quiet is nice.

Makoto doesn’t answer. She won’t even look him in the eye.

“You know I don’t have favorites,” he continues. “If you wanted, we could have a you and me day.”

“Maybe,” she says. Not the right answer.

So he tries again. “That’s not all you’re good for. You know that.”

“Do I?” Makoto cuts herself off with a sigh. “You shouldn’t have to comfort me. Not when you’re half-small and still in pain. I’m sorry for bringing it up.”

She turns to leave again,

“But Mako…” It feels silly, intentionally pitching up his voice to sound small, but the effects are immediate. Makoto stops cold, only realizing a second later that he did that on purpose.

Her face breaks into a smile, and just as Akira hoped, she moves it for retaliation. “You little runt!” she teases, diving in to tickle his sides.

But unfortunately for her, now that she’s close enough, he has no reservations about yanking her into a hug.

“Hey.” He hugs her close, even when his cheek protests in pain from being mushed up against hers. “You saved me. _You_ did. Remember that.”

For a tense moment, she doesn’t move. Akira can practically hear the gears turning in her mind. Then, finally, she hugs him back. “I’ll try to.”

Her hand moves up and down his back, and it’s almost enough to make him nod off on her shoulder. She must realize this too, because she pulls back so they’re face to face. Her hands don’t leave his shoulders, though.

“We were starting to get worried with how much you were sleeping,” Makoto admits. “Recovery must really be taking a lot out of you.”

“It is,” he agrees. “So if you wanted to hang out and be boring together, I won’t object.”

A small smile teases at her lips. “You’re still feeling small, aren’t you?”

He nods. The fact that he’s been able to string so many sentences together has been a miracle in itself, and frankly that’s as big as he’s going to get for a while. He’ll need both teddies—and Morgana too, if he’s willing to snuggle.

“That’s okay. And if you need anything, just text the group chat. Just no more texting arms dealers while under the influence, okay?”

Akira flushes again, eyes darting to his phone, left abandoned on the windowsill. He doesn’t even want to think about the responses he’s gotten. “Don’t remind me.”

Makoto giggles and kisses the top of his head. “Sleep tight. And just let me know if you want to video call or something. We could be extra boring and I could read my textbook out loud to you.”

“That sounds awesome.” Akira cuts himself off with a yawn, his eyes feeling heavier than ever. He flops back onto his pillows with an unceremonious thump.

With a roll of her eyes, Makoto tucks the covers up around his chin. “I’ll let you get back to sleep. Do you have an alarm set for your medication?”

He didn’t, but Mako didn’t have to know that, so he just nods, and if she suspects anything, she doesn’t say anything.

“I’ll check in tomorrow morning,” she says. It’s beginning to sound suspiciously like she doesn’t want to go.

Akira nuzzles into his pillow, littleness falling over him like a heavy blanket. He hopes Momo will come back soon, but he doesn’t have the will to voice that thought out loud. “Buh-bye.”

Makoto smiles, and finally, that weight disappears off her shoulders. “Goodnight, Akira.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also one of the teddies has finally been named!

**Author's Note:**

> mcschnuggles.tumblr.com


End file.
